


To Watch A Thousand Times

by queeniegalore



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batman and Robin (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Age Difference, M/M, Masturbation, Public Blow Jobs, Self-Denial, Teacher-Student Relationship, Voyeurism, bruce is a very bad sex ed teacher, jason is 16, kiiiinda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-16
Updated: 2016-11-16
Packaged: 2018-08-31 09:32:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8573188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queeniegalore/pseuds/queeniegalore
Summary: Jason's got questions, and he's pretty sure Bruce has got the answers. Late night cave sex ed is probably not a good idea for anyone involved, though.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Jason is 16, and there's mention that he lost his virginity (not to Bruce) when he was around 14. There's some non-consensual voyeurism happening here, too, but it's pretty light and harmless (as far as those things go).
> 
> Thanks again to my trusty beta, spiritthatdenies, who helped me out a lot with the ending.
> 
> Title from 'Time Out From The World' by Goldfrapp.

 

“Hey B, Can we talk?”

 Jason had waited until Bruce was out of uniform, showered and fresh, in that tired but wide awake state they got into after a long, hard patrol. It was five am and Jason knew that the sun was coming up outside the cave, and there was no school today, just endless sleep and then the excitement of another patrol after dinner, all laid out in front of him.

 And Bruce was smiling, eyes bright and sleepy, stubble coming in dark over his cheeks, hair a wet mess. So gorgeous it hurt a little, like always. Jason had almost learned to deal with it, live with it day to day like it wasn’t a _thing_ , but every now and then - in the dark of the predawn, when adrenaline was draining from his body and his defenses were down - he let it blindside him again, Bruce’s beauty. Let his body react, cheeks redden, throat go dry. Let his brain go just a little off the rails.

He swallowed, and added, “It’s kinda personal.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow, and leaned back in his chair, looking up at where Jason was perched on his corner of the desk. _Jason’s_ corner, the space Bruce and Alfred just casually kept clear for him now. He was getting a little big for it, thighs knocking against the keyboard, B’s pen holder, but no one said anything about it. So.

“What’s up, little Jay?”

Oh, god, _nicknames_. Bruce _was_ in a good mood. Jason ran a slightly shaky thumb over his bottom lip, split and a little swollen from a wayward elbow earlier, and took a deep breath.

“It’s about sex,” he blurted, and Bruce’s smile went a little frozen, a little crazy around the eyes. Jason licked his lips, tongue catching the tip of his thumb. “I mean, I was gonna ask Dickie some stuff but he hasn’t been by in a while and I just - if I can just - “ he was tripping up over his words, even though he’d practised this in his head, thought about it for a long time. Bruce was just watching him, brows still raised and a flush on his cheeks, and Jason suddenly felt so young and so _dumb_.

 _What_ did he think he was doing here?

“Ahh.” Bruce tapped his thigh a few times. “We went through - uh. We covered the basics. I thought. Remember.”

Through his mortification, Jason almost snorted. Yeah, Bruce had tried to give him the birds and the bees talk back when he was _fourteen_ , way after the horse had bolted the stable, and it had taken Jason’s horrified burst of “I’m not a virgin, oh my god I know what goes _where_!” to make him stop. Since then condoms occasionally found their way into his bedside table without him putting them there, which was humiliating but also, yes, did come in handy.

But that was not what this was about. Exactly.

“No, god no. I uh, still know the basics,” he said. “That’s kind of...that’s what I needed some elaboration on.”

Bruce frowned. “The basics aren’t...adequate?”

God, they were both a pair of awkward weirdos, Jason couldn’t stand it.

“I mean,” Jason started, powering through it. “The basics are only getting me so far. I want to kind of...move beyond the basics into um. Kind of more advanced territory.”

“Jesus Christ, how old are you, Jason,” Bruce asked, rubbing a hand over his eyes. Jason shrugged.

“I just. I wanna know how to… B, how do you make girls _come?_ Like, I am so hit and miss and it’s killing me.”

There, it was out there now, and Jason was finally free to die. He could feel his cheeks flaming to match Bruce’s, and his mouth was throbbing now, sore and hot as he worried it between his teeth. Why had he thought this was a good idea. He didn’t need to have sex, right? He could go to Tibet and become a monk and take a vow of chastity and bury himself in the snow and-

Bruce was _laughing_ , just quietly, behind his hand, and Jason was so outraged he kicked him, hard in the thigh.

“Hey fuck you-”

“Language.”

“-screw you, B, don't _laugh_ at me. Oh my god, this was the worst idea I’ve ever had, I should have waited for Dick, you are the worst person _possible_ to talk to about this stuff.”

Bruce, shook his head, looked back up at him. He was still tired, Jason could tell by the lazy way his eyes travelled over his face, caught for a second on Jason’s busted lip.

“Why on earth,” he said, voice rough with lack of sleep. “Do you think Dick would be any better at this?”

Jason stared at him in disbelief. “Have you seen his girlfriends? Dick dates literal _goddesses_. He’s gotta be doing something right, B, it can’t all be just the pretty face.”

Bruce looked at him seriously. “He’s also very flexible,” he said, deadpan, and they stared at each other for a moment, two, and then _both_ burst out laughing, loopy and a little giddy in the early morning air. Jason felt like a great big weight had been lifted off his shoulders, and there was something - even if he didn’t get what he needed out of this, this had still been good for them, probably. Forced emotional bonding, exactly what B needed sometimes. Even if it had to be shoved down his throat.

“Besides,” Bruce added, when they’d calmed down a little. “Have you seen the women _I’ve_ been with? Give me a little credit, Jay.”

Well. Jason certainly had seen the women Bruce had been with. A few times - a few very memorable times - had actually _seen_ them _with_ him.

If Jason was honest with himself, he got himself off a _lot_ thinking about those times.

“Okay, but, that’s all for show, right? Brucie Wayne fuh-, uh, takes ladies home,” he corrected demurely, sneaking a glance at Bruce through his lashes. “It’s just an act.”

Bruce was leaning back in his chair again, long legs sprawled out, head tilted up. He was frowning, but more thoughtfully than anything, like he actually was taking this seriously. Jason drew one foot up onto the desk, pushed the other out against Bruce’s chair, wedging his toes under Bruce’s thigh to anchor it there. Bruce let him, just flexed his muscle once against Jason’s foot. Jason tried to hold back a shiver.

“Lesson one,” Bruce said, voice still a bit hoarse. “Women are never just for show. It's true that I have to keep up the playboy act but I’ve never been with a woman I didn’t want to be with. It’s never just a chore, that’s not fair to them.”

“But there’s been so many,” Jason said. “How can you - how do you keep it up?”

Jason realised what he’d said a split second after he’d said it, and Bruce grinned up at him.

“Well. Maybe that’s a conversation for another time.”

“Oh my god, _Bruce_ ,” Jason whined, but they were laughing again, and there was...a thrum of something in the air. Probably just in Jason’s mind. But something about the hour, about the roughness of their voices, the closeness of their bodies...Jason was going to have to be careful he didn’t start showing Bruce _exactly_ how into this he was.

Even though there was a part of him that kind of wanted to do just that.

“Okay, okay. Every woman is different. I can’t just give you a...a cheat sheet. It’s not a series of buttons to press in order and then they’re coming under your hands.”

Jason’s mouth went dry. Bruce just casually talking about - about that, Jason couldn’t help but picture it. Drag up a couple of memories, Bruce in his study during a party, that pop singer bent over his desk, pressed down against his blotter, look of _ecstasy_ on her face as he did something that made her cry out, sharp and almost animalistic, nails clawing at the wood. The scratch marks had mostly polished out, but Jason still caught himself staring at them, sometimes. Remembering the thrust of Bruce's hips, slow and strong and _hard_...

“Jay?”

Jason blinked, shaking his head a little. Bruce was looking at him, a little amused, a little concerned.

“You need rest.”

“No! No, I.” Jason laughed softly. “You think I’m ever gonna have enough balls to bring this up with you again?”

Bruce smirked, and Jason had to look away, because he knew that smirk. He’d become real familiar with it when his eyes were closed and his hand was on his dick and all he could think about was the way Bruce could _move_.

A different time. Bruce and _Selina_. And fuck, Jason would never be able to forget that, still jerked himself off thinking about what he’d seen. Bruce and Selina, just a blur of dark on a rooftop together, backlit by the rising sun. Costumes still on, but whatever B was doing had her arching her back against him. One of his arms was clamped around her waist, the other working between her legs, heel of his gloved hand grinding against her, and she’d arched again, so sharp it looked painful. Jason couldn’t hear, but he could see the red _O_ of her mouth, the flush in her cheeks and oh god, Bruce, leaning to whisper something in her ear that made her twist in his grip, grabbing his face and kissing him _hard_ , but probably not as hard as Jason in his cup, turning silently and making the long, uncomfortable journey home on his own.

He’d seen Bruce’s mouth, too. Swollen like she’d hit him, or _bit_ him, smiling a little just before she kissed him again, her claws digging into his neck.

“So, where were we?” Jason asked, a little too loud, interrupting his own memories before he could get swept away again. The way Bruce was looking at him definitely wasn’t helping. “Cheat sheets? Gimme the cheat sheets.”

“No, I said there _were_ no cheat sheets.”

“Okay, but,” Jason sat up a little straighter. “It's like a fight, right? That’s how I see it.”

There went the eyebrow again. “A little niche, Jason, but some women are into it, sure.”

Jason gaped - _Bruce’s lips bruised, the scratches on his neck Jason had caught a glimpse of later_ \- and then squeezed his eyes shut for a second and powered on.

“Wow. _Okay_. I meant that you make me learn katas for a reason. So I’ve got moves to fall back on. And then I tailor them to each individual fight once I know what I’m in for.”

And Bruce nodded, Jason could see he was warming to the subject. He’d just had to frame it in the right way. “Yeah? You don’t just go in for the kill straight up? You have to, uh. Work your way through the playbook.” Jason rubbed his fingers against his thigh absently, caught Bruce watching and stopped.

“That’s actually not a bad way of looking at it,” Bruce mused, dragging his eyes back up to Jason’s face. “Alright. Next piece of advice?”

He paused, made Jason wait for it, studying his face. Jason could feel his cheeks redden, his mouth open a little. He licked his lower lip, which still stung, and tasted blood, sharp and coppery on his tongue. It was time to admit that he was so turned on his head was spinning, and intensely aware of how _close_ Bruce was, how _intimate_ this had gotten.

“Patience.”

It took Jason a moment to realise that Bruce wasn’t just scolding him, in that deep, raspy voice.   That was the _advice_. When he figured it out, he let out a long, slow breath.

“Oh.”

“What am I always telling you out in the field, Jay? Patience. Slow down. Pay attention. Same deal. Give yourself time and _don’t_ rush through on the way to getting yourself off and leave her behind. You understand?”

Jason could no longer form _words_. He swallowed and nodded, tried to look mature and knowledgeable and like he wasn’t waging a desperate internal war against his threatening hard on.

Bruce hummed, then tilted his head back and closed his eyes. “Kisses should be slow until she speeds them up. Lick at her mouth _softly_ , gently, bite her lips a little. Touch her in places you wouldn’t expect before you get to where you want to go. Run your fingers up the inside of her forearm, down the side of her neck. Draw it out, get her worked up before you…” he paused, and then borrowed Jason’s phrasing. “ _Go in for the kill_.”

Jason was shivering, phantom fingers tickling up the inside of his own arm as he imagined Bruce touching him like that. Taking his time. Tormenting him with more than just words.

“Lay her out, make her comfortable. You’re gonna get off no matter what, don’t worry about yourself. Use your hands, your fingers. Your mouth. Touch…” Bruce paused, sighed. “Jay, I shouldn’t be-”

“Keep going,” Jason said quickly, low and urgent. “Please.”

Bruce’s lips quirked, eyes still closed. “This is more a learning by experience thing, Jason. You gotta get your hands dirty.”

Jason gave up the fight, felt his dick _throb_ at those words. _I could get them dirty right now_ , he thought, a little desperate, a little crazy. _Show me how_.

He shifted a little, trying to angle his thigh to hide how hard he was, cock starting to be obvious through the thin material of the sweats he’d changed into. There probably wasn’t much point. Bruce...never missed much.

Jason realised he didn’t care quite as much as he should.

“See, girls are hard work,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, watching Bruce’s face, a muscle twitching in his jaw. “Teenage boys, now. They’re easy.”

Bruce opened his eyes. “Are they?”

Jason tried not to look too obviously like he was offering himself up on a plate, while at the same time...well, literally offering himself up on a plate. “In my experience, yeah.”

“Your personal experience?”

Jason kissed boys, sometimes. Sometimes he did a little more. He’d been naive to think Bruce hadn’t realised.

“You know.”

Bruce tilted his head. “I take it you don’t need any advice _there?_ ”

“If I did, could _you_ give it to me?” Jason shot back, and Bruce didn’t bite, but didn’t make any denials either and…

Jason had seen that, too.

Not too long ago, at a Wayne Foundation Gala at the Manor. Jason had been lurking in the back halls, close enough to the party so he wouldn’t get in trouble from Alfred if he got caught, far enough away that he didn’t have to actively be involved with it. He’d seen Bruce go by, almost said something to him, but then he’d seen who he was with, who he was leading away.

One of the catering staff brought in for the event. Jason was pretty sure they hired through a model agency, because they were all always drop dead gorgeous and this - this _boy_ \- was no different.

 _Pretty_ face, face to put Dickie to shame. Deep tan, big, smiling blue eyes, waves of tousled dark hair that was falling out of the little bun at the back of his head. The kind of guy Jason _hated_ , really, but obviously, undeniably, fucking gorgeous.

Bruce was holding his wrist, and he was Brucie-ing it up a storm. He still had a glass of champagne clutched in his other hand, for god's sake, and Jason would have laughed if he wasn’t in shock over the fact that B was kissing a _guy_ , right there in Wayne Manor, pressed up against the wall like he didn’t care who saw.

Jason...Jason had had no idea.

He shrunk back into the shadows of a doorway, held his breath as he watched.

They didn’t fuck around, kissed hard, _bruising_ , Jason could see Bruce’s fingers getting wet with splashes of champagne. Could see the way Bruce was licking into the guy’s mouth, biting his lip, thrusting a thigh between his legs and up against his crotch, making him gasp. Bruce laughed, low and rumbling in his chest, and when he lifted the champagne flute to his mouth the guy caught it, licked the wetness off Bruce’s fingers and oh, fuck...

Bruce pressed, _down_ , and then the guy was on his _knees_ and Jason was gonna ruin his nice suit, could feel his dick, already impossibly hard, twitching in his briefs.

The guy got his mouth around Bruce, and Bruce watched, had a sip of his drink while the guy went to town.

Jason had never wanted anything more in his life than to be the one on his knees, Bruce’s fingers tangled rough in his hair, Bruce’s cock fat and heavy in his mouth. He moaned, couldn’t stop himself, and then clamped a hand over his mouth, eyes wide, had they...had Bruce? But no, he was still hidden. The sound of this _pretty_ fucking waiter enthusiastically giving B sloppy, messy head right there in front of him had covered for him. Jason slowly breathed out, lowered his hand. Pressed it hard against his cock instead, willing himself to just hold out, not to come in his pants like a kid.

It didn’t last long.

Bruce was thrusting forward, kind of lazily, still holding his flute up so he didn’t spill more, the prick. But Jason could see it getting to him, his red cheeks, the sweat starting to ruin his hair, his mouth parting. His head fell back against the wall exposing the long, thick line of his neck, and before long, oh, _oh_ , Jason was watching Bruce lose it, watching him _come_.

Jason felt himself spurt precome in sympathy, dick _aching_ , and then Bruce smiled down at the kid, crooked a finger under his chin and tilted his head up to watch him swallow. “Good boy,” he mouthed, and Jason had to get out of there, running almost doubled over in the opposite direction until he found an empty room - God, any room - to hide in, shove his hand down his pants and barely touch himself before he was shooting, jizz pumping through his fingers and ruining his suit after all.

Like he was about ruin his pants now, with Bruce’s knowing eyes on him, still way too close, and-

“I saw,” Jason blurted out, before he could stop himself. “I saw you. At the gala, the other week. With the waiter.”

Bruce frowned for a second, then his expression cleared as he obviously remembered, figured out who Jason was talking about. The very tops of his cheekbones flushed red, and it somehow gave Jason the courage to keep going.

“I watched him, watched him blow you, but I didn't stick around to see how - if - you returned the favour. I had to go, go jerk off because I…” God, was he really saying this? He felt _drugged_ , mouth running away from him, fingers clutching anxiously at the edge of the desk. He looked at Bruce helplessly. “It was so _hot_ , B.”

“Oh, Jay,” Bruce sighed. “You're very young.”

 _Not_ what Jason wanted to hear.

“If I’d gone to Dickie with this after all,” he said, making himself look Bruce in the eye. Bruce was staring at his mouth again, had to drag his gaze back up to meet Jason’s. “If I'd spoken to _him_...would he be kissing me right now?”

Bruce inhaled, sharp and quiet. “Dick is straight.”

“And you're not.”

“You're a _child_.”

Jason narrowed his eyes. That _stung_. “Fuck you Bruce. You know better.”

Bruce's smile was rueful, and his cheeks were still red. He looked at Jason steadily. “I _should_.”

Jason's breath caught in his chest.  It was too much, too much to deal with, too hard to stop himself from sliding down into Bruce's lap and -

“Jason. We should go to bed.”

Jason leaned forward. “Together?”

Bruce laughed, rubbed a hand over his eyes. Jason could see it shaking.

“Christ you're bold,” he muttered. “No, not together.”

Jason heaved a sigh of frustration, fingers tightening on the edge of the desk. “Bruce...you're not _done_.”

“Yeah, I'm pretty sure we are done here, Jay.” And Bruce made to get _up_.

Jason was there, though, blocking him in with his legs, feet resting on either side of Bruce's chair, thighs tensed.

“ _No_ ,” he insisted and...Bruce wasn't trying very hard to get past him. Bruce could have escaped without breaking a sweat, without even having to catch his breath. Bruce. Bruce had been looking at his mouth all night.

“You're not done teaching me,” Jason whispered, and bit his bottom lip one last time, feeling the cut open up again, tasting blood.

Bruce looked very tired.

“You only want me to want you,” he said in his low, scratchy voice, “Because you’re a teenager and if I don’t you think it will be the end of the world.”

Jason almost kicked his chair.

“I already think you want me,” he replied, anger making him, yeah, _bold_. Like Bruce had said. Like Bruce had always admired about him. “I want you to admit it to yourself!”

In a second Bruce was surging up, knocking Jason back onto the desk and looming over him. He fisted a hand in the front of Jason’s shirt, and Jason shivered, staring up at him with huge, pleading eyes.

“ _Bruce_.”

“You think I don’t know? All _night_ ,” Bruce’s growl came out of nowhere, gaze zeroing in on Jason’s mouth. “All goddamn night, Jason. Asking me to teach you how to _fuck_? You’ve been driving me crazy.” He leaned in, and Jason almost whimpered as his lips got closer, the heat coming off him in waves. “You think I don’t know how much I want to do _this_?”

And then…

“ _Oh_.”

Not Bruce’s lips but his _teeth_ , gentle on Jason’s bottom lip, scraping along it once and then sucking it into his mouth, worrying at it, chewing just a little. Jason couldn’t stop his hips from pumping up, just once, his aching cock _desperate_ , the pleasure-pain from his mouth shooting right the fuck through his body. He got one hand up, clutched weakly at Bruce’s shoulder, fingers digging against hard, huge muscle, and then sliding up. And Bruce was letting him, oh god, letting him touch (“ _Use your hands, your fingers,_ ”), letting his fingertips trail up his neck, letting his palm cup that hard jaw that looked like it was chiselled from granite but which was so _soft_ it took Jason’s breath away.

His other hand was holding him up, but he trusted Bruce not to let him fall. He just, he just had to-

“ _Run your fingers up the inside of her forearm…_ ”

Jason had always been a quick learner.

Bruce’s arm was around his back almost before Jason had even moved, holding him tight as Jason brushed his fingers across the inside of Bruce’s other elbow, then followed the vein down his thick forearm to his wrist, pressed his thumb into the palm of Bruce’s hand where it was still clutching the front of Jason’s shirt. He felt Bruce _shiver_ at the touch, felt his breath quicken. And there was something about knowing how much this was affecting him, that it wasn’t just Jason alone in this. Bruce wanted it, Bruce was shaking for him, muscles tight and tense and heart pounding, just like Jason’s.

Jason moaned, low and throaty, he’d never felt anything like it in his _life_. He let his body sag into Bruce’s grip, thighs lifting and squeezing at Bruce’s waist. He was so big and so _there_ , hot and hard and huge in Jason’s space. And his teeth were still in Jason’s lip, biting down harder now, making Jason’s cock throb.

This time when he pushed up he was almost pushing against Bruce, and he nearly came on the spot, eyes watering with how good it felt. The pain and the intensity, the slight, teasing pressure against his dick so _needed_.

Bruce gasped and tore himself away from Jason’s mouth, eyes a little wild. Jason shook his head, tried to tug him back down. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, B.”

Bruce slumped forward, rested his forehead on Jason’s shoulder. “I’m not taking my own advice,” he mumbled, and Jason laughed breathlessly, grinding up now, cock wet in his pants and he tried to push it against Bruce’s hip.

“I told you, teenage boys are easy,” he said. “B, Bruce, I’m so close.”

“Already?” Bruce lifted his head, rubbed his mouth along Jason’s jaw, his cheek. “Tell me, Jay. How many times have you watched me?”

“ _Ahh…_ ” Jason squeezed his eyes closed, face burning, and wrapped both hands around Bruce’s shoulders, holding on for dear life. “Bruce, come on.”

“How many? I knew about a couple. You’ve never been subtle, Jay.” He licked at the side of Jason’s neck, took his earlobe between his teeth and bit down a little too hard. Fuck, Jason was almost there, a breath away from coming in his fucking pants and Bruce had still barely touched him.

“You - you’re not subtle either,” he managed, squirming in Bruce’s hold. “At parties, you like to take them into your study. Fuh-fuck them over the desk, up against the window. Discretion isn’t exactly part of the Brucie Wayne act, right?”

Bruce groaned, and Jason twisted a little, thighs burning with effort. Bruce was hard, fuck, Bruce was hard for him, holding himself still like fucking stone, panting into Jason’s ear. Jason was trying to rub against it, but he couldn’t find the right angle and Bruce wasn’t helping and fuck, he just needed to come so _bad_.

“And so you watched,” Bruce whispered in his ear. “Did you get off on me or them?”

The words poured through Jason like molten gold, and he remembered every time he’d jerked off thinking about what he saw, jerked off picturing Bruce and his _women._

“ _Both_ , Bruce, please, _please_ let me-”

Bruce hummed in satisfaction, the sound rumbling through Jason’s body. “You have homework.”

Jason almost collapsed. “ _What_?”

“You said I’m not done teaching you? So tonight was your first lesson. Your homework is to apply what you’ve learned in the field.” He kissed the corner of Jason’s mouth, then down over his chin, the hollow of his neck. “I know you _fuck_ , Jason. That’s what this was about, right? I want you to make a girl come for me. Can you do that?”

He reached down, finally, and Jason’s eyes rolled into the back of his head as Bruce pushed the heel of his hand against Jason’s dick, at last, at _last_ , and gave him something to grind against.

“Report back,” he whispered, and that was _it_ , Jason lost it, come pumping out of him and soaking his boxers, soaking his sweats, making a mess of Bruce’s hand. He felt like he couldn’t breathe, the only things anchoring him to reality Bruce’s arms, Bruce’s mouth kissing wetly over his face, Bruce’s voice, talking him through it, “Let go, Jay, that’s it, you feel so good, you did so good, just let _go…_ ”

Jason was a complete wreck, orgasm ripping through him like wildfire, fueled by Bruce’s voice. He groaned, long and hard, dropping his head back and doing as he was told, just letting go, giving himself up to Bruce like he always _had_. Always would.

Bruce held onto him just long enough to make sure he wasn’t actually going to slide off the desk, and then he took a couple of steps back, casually wiping his hand off on his pants like it wasn’t covered in Jason’s fucking _jizz_. He looked cool as a cucumber, like maybe they really had just been discussing Jason’s study schedule, like he hadn’t just driven Jason out of his mind with nothing but a couple of bites and a well timed press of his hand.

And Jason would have been fooled by it fine, if it wasn’t for the long, _thick_ bulge in the front of Bruce’s pants. Oh. Jason wanted that.

“ _B_.” He drew it out, sprawling back on the desk in invitation, knocking anything that was still left standing off to clatter across the floor. He let his legs fall open, cheeks red and flushed because fuck, he could see the wet patch over his crotch, knew exactly what he looked like. “Get back over here.”

And Bruce, the asshole, just gave a strained chuckle and shook his head, like he was competing for the world championship in self-denial.

“No,” he said, and there was regret in his eyes, for sure, and lust as he ran his gaze over Jason’s body. But there was determination, too, and with Bruce that always won. “I...that’s enough. I mean it this time, Jay. Time for bed. No arguments.”

Jason scowled. His knees were still weak, he was still catching his breath from one of the hottest orgasms of his life, and he was being _scolded_?

“Remind me not to ask you for tips on how to handle the afterglow, Bruce,” he muttered, and Bruce _grinned_.

“Not my forte, sorry,” he said, completely unrepentant. His hair was a mess, dried from his shower by now, standing up in a bunch of unruly cowlicks. Jason wanted him to come back closer so he could get his fingers in it, tug on the curls and see if Bruce was into that. God, he wanted so much more.

Instead, he rolled his eyes. “Yeah, no shit.”

“Hey,” Bruce raised his eyebrows, folded his arms. “Language.”

Jason snorted in disbelief, shaking his head, and slowly made himself slip to his feet. Okay, maybe Bruce was a _little_ right. He was so tired his head felt fuzzy, and the endless trek out of the cold, damp cave up to his room seemed almost impossible.

“ _Language_ , he says. After _that_.”

Bruce’s eyes softened, and Jason smiled a little to himself as he relented and stepped in, pulling Jason into a quick, tight hug, soothing the sting of rejection.

“Go to bed,” he said again, quietly. “Okay?”

And Jason understood that what he was really asking was ‘are you okay? Is this okay?’ and also ‘I need my space and so do you.’ And for once, Jason was ready to listen.

He’d imagined this happening more times than he could count. And his dreams always ended - well, most of them ended with him coming into a wad of tissues and trying not to moan Bruce’s name. But when he made it further than that, he’d imagined Bruce maybe - fuck. Taking him to bed. Letting him in. Something more than a bit of grinding in the cave after a long patrol, something more than some whispered dirty talk, a whispered confession.

But Jason had always been too optimistic for his own good, and he was _tired_ now, the weight of the night settling in his chest, the hours since he’d last slept stacking up against him. His orgasm had cleared his head, but also drained him, and he gazed at Bruce sleepily, watching how tight he still held himself. Watching the trepidation slowly, subtly creep into those blue eyes.

Jason was a wreck, but Bruce was a _mess_ , and Jason got that. Jason had never really known when to stop pushing, but he knew enough to stop now. He’d gotten… more than he’d ever actually expected, if not more than he’d dared hope for. And he was sure, he was _certain_ , it wasn’t going to be the last of it. Not a chance in hell.

He could wait. If he had to, and he was pretty sure he did, he could wait.

 _Patience_.

“Yeah, Bruce, I’m good.” He smiled big, _genuine_ , and stretched. “Need another shower and about twelve hours sleep, but I’m good.”

He glanced up through his lashes at Bruce’s tired face, lust still clouding his eyes as he looked back. Jason wondered if he was going to go jerk off, or if he was headed to a cold shower and a morning of denial.

His dick was still hard, and Jason felt a weird sense of pride in that at least. He wasn’t going to get it today, but Bruce still wanted him. He’d still _done that_ to Bruce.

He tapped Bruce on the arm, and started making his way to the staircase. “It’s okay, boss,” he added as he passed him. “We’ll work on your bedside manner next time.”

“Next time?"

Jason didn’t even need to look back to know that that fucking eyebrow was up again. He knew Bruce too well. Always had.

“Oh yeah, B. Next time.”

He paused, one hand on the railing. “I mean, you’ll be wanting that field report, right?”

And the memory of Bruce’s sharp gasp kept him smiling all the way up to his room.  
  


**Author's Note:**

> My tumblr: http://queeniegalore.tumblr.com/ and my twitter: https://twitter.com/queencognito are always open for business if you'd like to say hi :)


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